


Paint Splatter

by orsumfenix



Category: Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: M/M, Soulmate AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-22
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-04-22 23:01:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4853903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orsumfenix/pseuds/orsumfenix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone else's Timer counts down. Bart's counts up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. i - v

**i**

 

When Bart was younger, his parents would sit him on their laps and talk about how they met – about how their Timers both met zero, and at the point they _knew_. They talked about how exhilarating it was, to be speaking to the person you knew you’d fall in love with but you weren’t quite there yet.

They talked about how they both grew up tracing their Timers with their fingers, watching it count down closer and closer to zero.

Bart’s met lots of people in his life – lots of travellers, and other members of his camp, and almost all talk about the Timer they have resting on their arm, visible only to them. Some have already met their soulmate, their Timer frozen on zero. Some haven’t quite met theirs yet, their Timers still steadily counting down towards The Day. Some have always had zeros, those who have known their soulmate since birth. Some don’t have Timers, with no interest in romance.

Most ask about his Timer – how long is left on it? What day is it counting down towards? Bart just smiles and tells them “it’s a secret”. But he never, ever tells anyone the truth.

Because Bart is the only person he knows whose Timer is counting forwards.

 

**ii**

One day, Bart asks Nathaniel about his Timer. Nathaniel just sighs and contorts his face into one of sadness; it’s not something that Bart’s unused to, but it’s still upsetting to see.

“I never met them,” Nathaniel explains, closing his eyes as a grimace plays at the corner of his mouth. Bart watches with big eyes. “Before the Reach put me in that _fucking_ suit, my Timer still had a couple of months left. By the time I snapped out of it, it was on zero.” He shakes his head. “I never even knew who they were. _Fuck_.”

Nathaniel makes a bitter sound that Bart’s used to. Bart’s had to get used to a lot of things, with Nathaniel – with the uncensored profanity, with his constant compensation for killing Bart’s grandfather, even though Bart tells him time and time again that it wasn’t his fault – and, most of all, with a lifetime of bitterness haunting his mind.

Bart stays silent, waiting for Nathaniel to continue. He does, eventually.

“It’s likely that I killed them,” he speaks the words into the air, and Bart feels his heart drop. Today will be a bad day, probably. A bad _week_ , with the way Nathaniel sounds. Bart’s known him for long enough to recognise the way Nathaniel will feel later due to how he sounds now, and Bart prides himself on being able to help.

He doesn’t offer comfort – comfort is never something that Nathaniel wants. Something that Nathaniel wants, Bart knows, is a discussion – talk about whatever it is, and make it better for when he thinks about it next.

“Do you think anyone could really do it?” Bart asks into the still. The only thing moving is the ash falling around them, getting tangled into his hair, stuck on his clothes, caught on his eyelashes. It doesn’t bother him. He’s used to it by now. He’s used to a lot of things by now.

Nathaniel opens his eyes after an eternity of having them shut, and stares at Bart.

“Do what?” he asks tiredly, the exhausted injected into every ounce of the two words. Bart just shrugs skittishly – he may have had an inhibitor collar on for practically all his life, but he’s still a speedster, and hyperactivity is one of the traits he definitely inherited.

“Kill their soulmate,” he mutters, meeting Nathaniel’s eyes straight on and meeting the blackness and pain within them. “Like, in their right mind. Not moded, or anything.”

Nathaniel pauses for a few seconds, mulling the question over genuinely. Bart has to fight the smile tugging at the corner of his lips – this is exactly what Nathaniel needs. Something to distract him, but something still painfully on topic.

“I think,” Nathaniel says slowly, scars moving as he talks the way they always do. Bart settles his eyes on them. “I think that, if they were desperate, with nothing else to do, and killing them might bring about something wonderful – I think that they would do it.” He laughs bitterly. “If they were smart, that is.”

Bart doesn’t know what to say, and he really wasn’t expecting that answer, so he just smiles uneasily.

 

**iii**

“What about your Timer?” Nathaniel asks about a week later, when they’re sifting through rubble looking for anything of use. The ash has thinned out, as it always does in the summer, and so it’s not too blinding to be outside. It’s pretty much the only concept Bart has of seasons.

He doesn’t know whether or not to answer.

Bart’s never talked about his Timer before – other people’s sure, but never his own. By the time he realised that counting forwards wasn’t normal _at all_ his parents were already gone along with everyone that he trusted. He’s had his Aunt Dawn but she was always so sick, and then she died too and Bart was left all alone.

Out of everyone in the world, Bart thinks that Nathaniel’s the only person he really trusts. It’s been years since they met, in that time Nathaniel’s been so good to him, taken so much care of him, that it would be like a betrayal to keep this from him.

Bart straightens up from where he was crouched on the floor by the rubble. He doesn’t turn around to face Nathaniel. He doesn’t think he would be able to bear it.

“It’s… counting forwards,” Bart admits for the first time, the words heavy and bitter on his tongue, but it relieves a great weight from his heart that’s been hanging there ever since he realised that he wasn’t _normal_.

He doesn’t have to be facing Nathaniel to know that the man is frowning.

“It’s… what?”

“Counting forwards,” Bart elaborates, bending back down to carry on with his work. He needs to distract his fingers before they start trying to tear each other apart. “It always has been. I don’t know why.” He shrugs nonchalantly, but he’s jittery as hell and both of them know it.

“I’d say that’s fucking impossible, but…” Nathaniel trails off. Bart hears the sound of the man continuing his own work behind him, and he almost sighs in relief. At least Nathaniel’s not freaking out, then. “What, um, what time is it on?”

“Thirty nine years,” Bart informs lightly, and though his tone may be cheery he’s really feeling anything but. “And counting. Up, not down. Not like everyone else.” He smiles – just for the defence mechanism, Nathaniel isn’t even _looking_ at him. The smile is wobbly and forced but it’s _there_ , and it makes Bart feel better just for its presence.

There’s a shifting behind him, and suddenly Bart’s being enveloped in a hug.

Bart isn’t hugged often. He knows that he’s generally a tactile person, always has been, and when he was younger his parents smothered him in hugs, but his hunger for human contact has always been sated by brushing arms and huddling close for body warmth. It’s rarely ever been… _this_.

Nathaniel isn’t big on hugs, and Bart can appreciate the effort.

He turns around and hugs tightly back. He knows that his fingernails must be digging in but he doesn’t care and he’s pretty sure that Nathaniel doesn’t care, either. It’s not about the comfort of the thing. It’s about the feeling, the caring, and Bart loves it for it.

They pull away, eventually, and Nathaniel never speaks of Bart’s Timer again.

 

**iv**

Before he changes into his new superhero costume, before he travels into the past – Bart takes one good look at his Timer.

The numbers are still rising, a second at a time, steadily getting higher and higher until Bart’s sick of looking at the proof he’ll never meet his soulmate.

He allows the left side of his mouth to quirk in a bitter smile.

Forty years and counting.

 

**v**

Afterwards, when Bart’s exhausted himself with the smiles and action and running and _saving Grandpa Barry’s life_ , holy _shit_ , he lets himself rest. The Garricks have offered to let him stay with them – they didn’t ask any questions, about his time or his Timer or his family. They just offered him a guest room with a bed, and it’s one of the greatest acts of kindness that Bart’s ever been given.

He’s been given new clothes, some of Wally’s old ones that have never been thrown away for some reason – pyjamas included. Bart’s wearing them now, white with little ducks printed all over them. The material is slightly scratchy and the sleeves stiff, but Bart’s grown up wearing his daytime clothes in the night, and this is _lovely_.

He thought that it would feel wrong, but it doesn’t. It feels so utterly, wonderfully _right_.

The bed itself, when he lies on it, feels soft and gentle, and it feels like Bart could sink into it forever. He’s had a bed before, of course, but that was with a thin mattress and shared, and this is in a _spare room_ of a lovely warm house and everything is wonderful.

He’s been bought a toothbrush that he uses with joy. Once again, he’s had one before, he just… it’s such a _luxury_ , to have one again, and the Garricks had actually _apologised_ for buying a cheap one.

Everything’s so overwhelming, but in the best and most amazing way possible.

Bart’s tired, and he knows that going to sleep won’t be difficult. Still, he’s going to stick with his usual ritual – stare at his Timer first, and wonder what it means.

And so Bart climbs into bed, lies down, wrapped up in his duvets like a cocoon, and sticks his arm out to glance at it.

What he sees makes him freeze.

The time has changed.

And not in the usual way, either. Not in the way that he’s used to, where thirty seven years steadily worked its way up to thirty eight and then to thirty nine and then to forty. Not in the gradually building, second by second, way that Bart’s been watching for all of his life.

Because his Timer has three days on it now.

And it’s _counting down_.


	2. vi - x

**vi**

Bart doesn’t remember much about his mother, but what he does remember is that she told him all about her own Timer.

“It was silent all my life,” she’d explain, Bart on her lap, smiling as his clumsy fingers played with her hair. “But as soon as I saw Don, it made a noise.”

Bart had blinked at her with big eyes.

“Wha nose?”

Meloni had smiled at his mispronunciation and taken his hand, guiding it over to where her Timer lay, invisible to all eyes but her own.

“Like a big _tick_ ,” she’d stated, warmth shining out of her eyes. “Your daddy says that he heard the same thing – that his clock made a big _tick_ , and he knew that it was me.”

Later, when both his parents were gone and Bart had realised that counting forwards wasn’t usual, he’d sat staring at his arm, at where he steadily gained more and more years, and wondered what it meant that his Timer would never _tick_ , because it would never, _could_ never, reach zero.

 

**vii**

Sleep seems so much harder after Bart’s seen his Timer; somehow he manages it. His dreams are filled with ticking clocks and his mother and ash that fills his mouth until he’s choking, and he wakes up to a face full of pillow.

Now that Bart’s awake, he can relax. He’s gotten all tensed up in his sleep again, the way he usually does. Bart grimaces as he stretches stiff joints, but then a smile comes to his face.

He’s in the past.

 _He’s in the past_.

The thought takes up several seconds of bliss before Bart remembers about his Timer.

He decides to take a peek at it – maybe he was just imagining things last night. Maybe it was just the stress of going back in time and saving Grandpa Barry and Nathaniel and _meeting Wally_. Maybe he’ll look at his arm and it’ll be right back to usual – forty years and counting.

Bart’s gotten used to a lot, and one of those things is that his clock will be counting forever.

Something he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to is looking down and seeing his clock on a two and half days, getting lower.

Bart just _stares_ at his arm for several more seconds, taking a couple of shaky breaths. Is this how everyone feels when their Timer gets near to zero? If so, he can understand why they’d be relieved when it finally does. At least then they’ll be done with all the waiting.

There’s a knock at the door.

“Bart?” It’s Joan. “Are you awake?”

“Um, yeah,” he hurriedly informs, standing up at superspeed and sending his head spinning. “I’m up.”

Silence. And Joan must be psychic or something because, “are you okay?”

Bart looks down at his Timer. Two and a half days.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

 

**viii**

The only person Bart would have trusted enough to talk to about this was Nathaniel, but Nathaniel isn’t here right now. And while Bart _does_ love his family _a lot_ – he’s only known them for a day and he already loves and cares for them so, _so_ much – there is no trust there yet. There will be, in time, but not right now.

Bart can’t trust anyone right now.

And so he doesn’t tell a soul. He spends his days in awe of the world and the happiness and the _sun_ , and if he habitually glances down at his arm to make sure that yes, it really is counting down and no, he wasn’t imagining it, then that’s nobody’s business but his.

Bart watches his Timer go from two and a half days to two and two days to one and a half and one and half days to one, and it seems like no time at all until he wakes up one morning with only half a day left on his Timer.

 

**ix**

“Hey – it’s Bart, right? I’m Cassie!”

Bart already knew that.

Wondergirl is blonde and buff and much more friendly than Bart had anticipated – she’s very touchy-feely, and Bart loves touch so he leans into it with ease.

Cassie is supposed to be showing him around the Cave and introducing him to the rest of the team. Bart smiles and acts like he’s so very happy to be here – and, in a way, he is. Just not in the way that everyone else thinks.

He’s jittery as hell and Bart wonders if Cassie notices it. He’s always been like this, always been hyperactive – either because he’s a speedster or because he’s just _Bart_. But the reason is different, today. Today is the day he meets the team. Today is the day he meets Blue Beetle.

Today is the day he meets his soulmate.

As much as he regrets to admit, Blue Beetle will have to take priority. Blue Beetle is a great danger to the world, and one that Bart knows he’s going to have to stop. No matter what. Even if it means killing him.

Still, Bart can’t help but keep his eyes flickering towards his arm – he made sure to wear civvies with short sleeves especially so that he could do exactly this. And there his Timer is, still counting down. Still steadily making its way towards zero.

Bart’s stomach tingles.

Cassie continues to show him around.

 

**x**

“So, what do you think so far?” Cassie inquires, grinning with her teeth on full display. “Pretty cool, right?”

It’s more of a rhetorical question than a real one, but Bart answers anyway.

“It’s awesome!” he enthuses, nodding his head in what’s _probably_ superspeed. “Totally crash!”

“What does that mean, anyway?”

“It’s -” Bart gets cut off by Cassie seeing something over his shoulder and grinning.

“Hey, it’s Blue. Blue!” Cassie calls out, and Bart’s shoulders tense automatically at the name. His brain’s already working in overdrive – Blue is Blue Beetle, Blue Beetle is behind him, Blue Beetle is probably coming over _oh god he isn’t ready_.

Bart takes a deep breath, and slips back into real time. This is no time to panic. He’s about to meet Blue Beetle. This is the guy who enslaved Bart’s planet. This is the guy who killed Bart’s parents. This is the guy who pretty much single-handedly doomed the world to the Reach apocalypse.

This is the guy that Bart’s going to have to kill.

Bart gets ready to turn around.

“Blue, come meet the new kid!” Cassie’s still calling, though her voice is lower now. Blue Beetle’s close. Oh god.

Bart’s jealous of Cassie, almost. She has no idea who Blue Beetle is, what he’s going to _do_.

“Cassie? What are you -?”

Bart steels himself for one last time, and turns around.

Bart stares. Blue Beetle trails off, and stares back.

Both of their Timers meet zero with a resounding _tick_.


	3. xi - xvi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don't know whether i like this or not but here you go i guess

**xi**

As a kid, Jaime used to stare at his Timer for hours, enraptured by the way it steadily counted down towards a certain date. It was years off, but Jaime remembers feeling excited even then, tracing the numbers with his fingers, watching as they got ever so slowly lower and lower.

For all his life, his Timer has been the only thing that’s linked him his soulmate; his soulmate, a mysterious person that the only thing he’s ever known about is when he’ll meet them. Jaime would fantasize about them – would they be taller than him or smaller than him? Would they be kind and compassionate, or loud and reckless? Would they be a blend of those characteristics? None of them? Would they look at him with love in their eyes, and would the moment when their Timers met zero be _magical_?

Once he’d grown up a little, Jaime realised that meeting his soulmate would probably be quite awkward. They would have only just met, after all, and then there they would be, being told that they were destined to be together.

The whole idea has always been kind of scary, but so amazingly thrilling at the same time.

Looking down at his Timer during the night, he’s always wondered whether his soulmate is doing the same thing right now. Whether, somewhere, maybe on the opposite side of the world or right there in El Paso, someone _connected_ is looking down at their Timer and wondering about him, too.

(Jaime had no way of knowing that the person he was connected to was growing up decades in the future, with a Timer that ticked forwards, and that that person thought they didn’t even _have_ a soulmate.)

Now, years later, when his Timer has _tick tick ticked_ its way right down to zero, Jaime stares at the most beautiful boy he’s ever seen.

He hears a _tick_ , and he _knows_.

“ _Hola_ ,” he breathes out, and smiles – the kid is still staring. _His soulmate_ is still staring. And Jaime becomes worried when he realises what his soulmate is staring at him _with_.

And that thing is _absolute terror_.

 

**xii**

Bart doesn’t think his brain has ever gone as fast as it’s going now, collar on or off. He can practically feel his heart thumping wildly in his chest – probably at superspeed. He’s probably vibrating, come to think of it. Bart’s not going to make any attempt to stop it. He’s _allowed_ to be scared.

Bart had known that he was going to meet Blue Beetle today. He’d also known that he was going to meet his soulmate today.

He’d just had no idea that Blue Beetle and his soulmate were the same person.

Blue Beetle isn’t wearing his armour – he’s wearing civilian clothes, and so Bart can see his deep brown eyes and smooth skin and _fuck, he’s smiling_.

Blue Beetle is gorgeous, and Bart hates him.

Blue Beetle’s eyes flick down to where his Timer must be, and Bart knows that he heard it too. He heard the _tick_ that his mother used to tell him about, and now neither of them has any doubt that it’s their soulmate standing in front of them.

Blue Beetle looks happy, and Bart feels sick.

Blue Beetle must pick up on this, because he stops smiling, and instead looks… worried.

“Hey, are you guys okay?” a voice comes from behind Bart. Oh, right. Cassie’s still there. He’d forgotten. “You both look really weird.”

Blue Beetle dredges up a smile for her. Bart had never really thought about Blue Beetle smiling, before. It hadn’t really seemed _possible_.

But, then again, none of this seems possible by Bart’s standards. He has a soulmate. He’s just met his soulmate.

His soulmate is Blue Beetle.

Bart’s soulmate is a murderer, and a liar, and the person that’s going to bring about the end of the world. Bart’s soulmate killed his parents, and laughed as they died. Bart’s soulmate is the person he’s more than ready to execute.

How is he supposed to execute his soulmate?

“We’re okay,” Blue Beetle replies to Cassie, seemingly years later. Bart doesn’t know whether he’s been thinking fast or if Blue Beetle just took a while to answer. He supposes it doesn’t really matter – it’s just something to think about other than the fact that _Blue Beetle is his soulmate_. “We, um – can we talk?”

The question was directed towards Bart. Blue Beetle looks at him with dark and piercing eyes and something deep buried inside of them.

Bart nods yes.

 

**xiii**

“I’m Jaime,” he offers, heart beating like mad, once Cassie’s out of earshot. Jaime’s soulmate is trying very hard not to meet his eyes, and not quite succeeding. His green, _green_ eyes keep drifting back every few seconds. “I – you heard it too, right?”

“The _tick_?” Jaime’s soulmate asks, looking like he surprised even himself. “I – yeah.”

Jaime is excited. He can feel tit inside of his stomach, like a storm brewing.

This is his _soulmate_.

He tries force himself to calm down when he remembers that his soulmate had looked scared. Jaime doesn’t quite know if he managed it or not.

“Hey, it’s – we can take it slow, okay? We don’t have to rush into it, or anything…” Jaime trails off, a silly grin coming onto his face without warning. He can’t stop smiling. He doesn’t know if it’s normal or not, being so elated – his soulmate certainly doesn’t seem to feel that way – but he thinks he’s perfectly entitled.

Jaime just met his _soulmate_.

“Take it slow, huh?” his soulmate says, grin coming onto his face with a slight tone of amusement in his voice. Both sound vaguely forced, but it’s so hard to tell that Jaime dismisses the thought almost as soon as it comes to him. “I’m a speedster. We do everything _fast_.”

Jaime’s still smiling.

“What’s your name, anyway?” he asks. He wants to be able to tell his parents tonight. His head feels a little lighter at the thought. They’ll be _thrilled_. Milagro will tease him, but she’ll be happy too, Jaime knows.

“Bart,” his soulmate – _Bart_ – answers. “Bart Allen.”

_My soulmate’s name is Bart Allen_ , Jaime thinks to himself, feeling a little dizzy. _He has browny-red hair and green eyes and freckles and he’s a speedster. And he’s perfect_.

“It’s nice to meet you, Bart Allen.”

Jaime rolls the name around in his mouth, trying to get used to it. Bart Allen. That’s the name of his soulmate. Bart Allen. He’s going to fall in love with Bart Allen.

He thinks he might be in love already. In love with the _idea_ , that is. The idea of his soulmate, that he’s always loved, which now has a face and a name and a personality to go with that idea.

Bart Allen smiles.

“It’s really crash to meet you!” he enthuses, and Jaime blinks at the strange wording choice. “I’ve, ah, kinda gotta go finish my tour with Cassie, but see you around!”

Then Bart Allen runs off.

Jaime smiles at his back, and thinks that he’s never been happier.

 

**xiv**

As soon as Jaime can’t see his face, Bart’s smile drops.

His chest is full of dread.

 

**xv**

The stomach of Jaime Reyes is full of butterflies twirling around in summersaults. The stomach of Bart Allen is full of bugs gnawing on his intestines.

The stomach of Cassie Sandsmark is full of hopping frogs, intensely curious.

 

**xvi**

When Bart gets home that night, he shuts the door to the guest room he’s been staying in and slides to the floor.

He doesn’t think he’s ever felt so moded in his life.

Cassie hadn’t asked any questions, thank god. She’d shot him a _look_ , hinting that she’d wanted him to explain, but she hadn’t actually gone out of her way to say anything, and for that Bart’s immensely grateful. He doesn’t think he would have been able to deal with it, if she had.

He breathes out slowly – by speedster standards, anyway – and shuts his eyes.

If there’s one thing Bart prides himself on, it’s his acting skills. Fake smiles have always come naturally to him, as has lying – it’s one of the things which made coming to the past so easy. Just a big grin and a couple of references to things which never happened, and soon his whole family was convinced that they were still alive in his future.

Still, though, just being _around_ Blue Beetle and not cowering in fear was one of the hardest things Bart has ever done. It had taken time to get his bearings, to fake being happy, and he’d left at the first possible opportunity, but. It was difficult, and emotionally draining on a whole other level than what Bart’s used to.

Luckily, Blue Beetle had been two wrapped up in grinning to notice Bart’s bordering-on-breakdown.

Bart lets out a sharp breath of air through his nose just thinking about it. God, Blue Beetle had been _happy_. He hadn’t even thought the monster was capable of it.

The fact that it was _Bart_ who caused Blue Beetle’s happiness is even more disconcerting.

Bart wants to scream.

Maybe screaming would actually lighten the load on his chest, but right now he has a feeling that if were to start screaming then he would never stop and his lungs might burst from the pressure.

Bart thinks that maybe keeping it all in would be better. Not that he wants to – letting emotions out is something he’s always thought is important.

But if he lets anyone knows the truth, then there’s no telling what will happen.

Tears sting at his eyes. Bart lets them fall.

_I’m so fucking moded_.


	4. xvii - xxii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this took ages and i don't even know why i'm sorry

**xvii**

If Bart prides himself on his acting skills first and foremost, then his second most admirable quality is to be able to care.

He takes after his mother, in that way, he thinks – not that Don Allen _didn’t_ care, but Meloni Thawne was always blessed with the wonderful ability to care and love so completely and wholly within only a day of knowing someone, without any ulterior motive other than that she could.

Bart’s inherited it, he knows that he has. In the future, there was never that many people to care _about_ – it was just Nathaniel, in the end. But here, in the past, there’s the team and his family who he already loves _so_ much – would give his life for, already. And his team, he knows, will only have to fight beside him once to earn his complete devotion.

Bart would do anything for the people he cares about. _Anything_.

His love, though unconditional, comes in many shapes and forms – the love of a family, the love of a friendship, the love of simply _existing_ , until the point where it’s almost easy for Bart to forget that he’s only ever loved platonically.

The love of a soulmate is a romantic one, and not one that Bart’s ever been able to imagine before. He’d had the odd fantasy when he was _very_ small, and once in a while indulged himself when he’d gotten older – dreamed of a Timer that counted down and a soulmate waiting at the end.

Now, it’s like his best fantasies and his worst nightmares have been mashed into a sick experience that he must live out, and Bart has absolutely no idea what he’s supposed to do.

His Timer has told him that, for all his love and care, he’ll end up loving and caring for Blue Beetle the most. Bart’s terrified that what his Timer has told him is true.

 

**xviii**

Jaime takes a moment, lying in bed at the end of the day, to reflect.

His chest tingles as soon as his thoughts stray in the direction of his soulmate. Bart Allen. Jaime mouths the words, forming as naturally on his tongue as though he were always destined to say them.

But as he thinks back, he finds himself frowning.

His soulmate had been scared.

Jaime had chalked it up to the overwhelming feeling that comes with discovering your soulmate – being told that you’re going to spend your entire life with them, going to love them and devote yourselves to them and that they will be your everything.

Jaime stares at the ceiling.

He just can’t shake the nagging feeling that Bart was scared because of something else.

Jaime frowns.

 

**xix**

Bart’s having a lot of feelings that are all assaulting his brain at once, and perhaps deciding to rummage through Blue Beetle’s locker isn’t the best way to deal with those feelings, but Bart knows that if he doesn’t keep his hands and mind busy he’ll explode, and so – routing through a locker it is.

Bart’s brain automatically flicks into Scavenger Mode, assessing what’s stored in there and how useful it is. There’s a jacket, okay for warmth but still not great. A packet of… ‘Chicken Whizzies’?

Bart blinks at those, taking the packet out to study them. He just keeps being surprised at how… _normal_ Blue Beetle is, eating junk food and being elated at meeting his soulmate and even having a human name – _Jaime_.

“What are you doing?”

Bart jumps and slams the locker door shut, Chicken Whizzies still in hand. Cassie grins at him, twinkle in her eyes.

“I’m not doing anything,” Bart declares, turning to face her fully. “What are _you_ doing?”

Cassie raises an eyebrow.

“ _I’m_ trying to find Blue,” she states. “And here I find you at his locker instead. Looting his stuff.”

Bart forces a smile to come onto his face, hopefully a somewhat natural-looking one. He’s hoping that by looking playful he’ll cover up how wildly his heart is thudding in his chest.

Because that could’ve been Blue Beetle, and if it had been then Bart might be dead by now.

“I’m not _looting_ it,” he replies, mind skipping back to what feels like forever ago, though to Cassie it was only a couple seconds. “I’m just… looking through it. Trying to find something crash. I claim Scavenger Rights.”

Cassie stares at him for a couple seconds, analysing his face as if trying to decide whether he’s serious or not. After a moment she bursts out laughing. Bart blinks.

“You’re so _weird_ ,” she comments, though not in a bad way, before straightening up and grinning at him in a way that Bart’s not entirely comfortable with. “But I know why you’re _really_ going through his locker.”

“You… do?”

She doesn’t, Bart tries to reassure himself. She can’t know. There’s no possible way that she could know…

Cassie leans in close, still smiling.

“You and Blue are soulmates, aren’t you?” she murmurs, and Bart’s heart stops. "You both acted really weird yesterday, and Jaime wouldn’t stop grinning and he took you off for a ‘private talk’ – it was obvious.”

Bart’s still frozen. Cassie must see something either on his face or in his eyes, because she leans back. But only slightly.

“I know I’m right,” she carries on, her grin becoming a warmer one. “And you seemed really scared about it.” Bart wonders if he’s really overestimated his acting skills _that_ much. “I know it’s scary. And I’m not sure what they teach you about it in the future, so…” Cassie waves her hands a little awkwardly. “I’m here, if you need to talk.”

Bart’s not the type of person to cry, except that that’s a lie and he totally is and he can feel the tell-tale stinging in his eyes.

Because in the future, you didn’t learn in a classroom about your Timer. Someone had to tell you, and for Bart that was his parents, but they’d told him what to do about his Timer counting _down_ , not _up_ , and by the time he thought to ask they were already gone. And then there was no one and he was all alone, and then there was Nathaniel but the topic was never broached – but then it was, and Bart just ended up feeling disappointed because _of course, Nathaniel didn’t know what to do either_.

Bart met Cassie yesterday and she’s already being so supportive. He can already feel that he cares for her so much, though he won’t love her, he can tell – he’ll love Blue Beetle.

A bitter part of his brain whispers, _why couldn’t it be her?_

And that’s the thing – why did it have to be _Blue Beetle_ , of everyone in the whole world, why did Bart get assigned to be the other half of the most damnable person out there?

He doesn’t even realise he’s crying until his face is buried in Cassie’s hair and she’s whispering “it’s okay, everything will be okay” and he’s getting a _hug_.

Bart sighs, relaxes in, and hopes that his immense ability to care won’t be the end of him.

 

**xx**

Jaime has to see his soulmate.

He’d decided, yesterday – his soulmate had been scared and he’d done jack all to support him, and it’s Jaime’s duty to do just that. He’d probably overwhelmed Bart with the happiness thing.

Now he has to make sure that Bart’s okay.

**[The Impulse does not require a check-up. Desist, Jaime Reyes.]**

Jaime rolls his eyes.

The scarab has been nothing but unhelpful. When Jaime had first received it and discovered that it was fully aware of the Timer on his arm, it had spent whole hours stating that **[a soulmate is an unnecessary distraction. Upon meeting them, you must destroy them.]**

Jaime’s done his very best not to take it to heart.

Ignoring the scarab is… hard, considering that it’s a constant presence that whines and complains about anything that isn’t fighting – which is most things. Jaime should probably let Bart know about that. Or does he _already_ know about that? Impulse is from the future, apparently, so would he or not?

Clearly, this is going to be a discussion that they need to have at some point.

But, as of right now, Bart feeling okay is Jaime’s priority – he’s a little overwhelmed himself, and Bart had looked seconds away from having a panic attack, in hindsight, and Jaime really should have said something a little more than “we can take it slow”.

Jaime curses, and sets off for the Cave.

He’s not actually meant to be going in today, though of course it’s always his choice. His parents still don’t know about the whole ‘superhero’ thing, so they think he’s going over to a friend’s house. In reality, Jaime is off to talk to his superhero soulmate. From the future.

He’d ended up not telling his parents about Bart, because he’d rather get to know his soulmate better himself before his parents insist on doing so. Oddly enough, it had been the scarab who’d mentioned that, and Jaime _had_ taken that advice to heart. Which, he’ll admit, is a rare occasion, seeing as most of the scarab’s advice is telling him to destroy someone.

And just – no.

Jaime arrives at the Cave finally, after a mental debate in his head whether listening to the scarab is _ever_ a good idea or not. (He’s settled on not.) He’s good and ready for a snack, by this point – he still has some Chicken Whizzies left in his locker.

Maybe he can have some of them.

 

**xxi**

Someone has stolen his Chicken Whizzies.

Jaime stares open mouthed for a few seconds before deciding that this Will Not Do.

It’s not like he’ll be able to hunt down who it is, to be honest. But, still. His Chicken Whizzies have been stolen.

“ _There_ you are, Blue,” Cassie says from beside him, leaning into his frame of vision. “I was looking for you.” She frowns. “You okay?”

“Someone’s stolen my Chicken Whizzies,” Jaime mutters, turning to face Cassie fully. She blinks, then smiles.

“Oh, that? Yeah, that was Bart.”

“ _My soulmate stole my Chicken Whizzies?_ ”

 **[Interrogate the Wondergirl.]** Jaime’s going to choose to ignore that.

“Yeah, but see, that’s kind of what I wanted to talk about.” Cassie’s grin fades and she looks slightly awkward, shifting. “Listen, Bart’s… nervous, I think. About you.”

Even though he already knew, Jaime can’t help but deflate.

“Yeah, I know. I came here to talk to him, actually. Do you… know where he is?”

Cassie nods.

“He’s in the kitchen,” she informs, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I dunno if he’s alone, though.”

“That’s fine,” Jaime reassures. “Thanks, Cass.”

He begins walking towards the kitchen, only halting when Cassie calls his name from behind.

“Just… take it slow, yeah?” she says, and Jaime hasn’t turned around but he knows that she’s frowning. “Some people find it easier than others.”

Jaime nods, and makes his way towards the kitchen.

 

**xxii**

“Are those mine?” an amused-sounding person asks, and Bart freezes.

He may have only heard it once before in this timeframe, but he knows that voice.

“Um, no,” Bart states, though that’s totally a lie and both of them know it. “These are – I found these.”

“In my locker?” Blue Beetle questions, one eyebrow raised, as he comes to sit beside him at the kitchen table. Bart tries not to move away on instinct, instead forcing a smile. “Why were looking through my locker, anyway? Really, there’s nothing interesting in there.”

Oh, _god_.

Blue Beetle is trying to be… _chummy_ with him. Which is to be expected, seeing as they’re _soulmates_ , but that it doesn’t mean it’s not the most disconcerting thing Bart’s felt in a long while.

“Oh I don’t know,” he ends up answering, even though his heart isn’t in it and he wonders if Blue Beetle can tell. “There was Chicken Whizzies. Which are _lovely_ , by the way.”

“You certainly have devoured them.” Blue Beetle seems to find this humorous. Maybe if it were anyone else, Bart might be tempted to laugh, but it’s not anyone else – it’s Blue Beetle and Bart has always hated Blue Beetle, and he’s so horrifically scared that that’s about to change. “Had any before?”

Bart goes with the safest bet.

“Yep,” he announces, popping the ‘p’. “Wally introduced me.”

A strange look comes over Blue Beetle’s face. Bart watches, and hopes that his death isn’t being planned as he speaks.

“You have… what three mentors, now?” Blue Beetle asks. Bart can only nod. “That’s… not really fair.”

Blue Beetle starts to talk about Ted Kord, then – about how he wishes he could’ve met him, but instead he’s gotten saddled with a scarab that he doesn’t understand and he has no one to explain it to him. And all the while Bart stares at him, his brain whirling, and thinks _oh_.

This isn’t Blue Beetle. This is Jaime Reyes. And he’s… he’s nice, and he’s deep and he has some of the same feelings that Bart does, and Bart can feel his heart starting to warm and thinks _oh_.

 _Oh_ , Jaime Reyes is worth saving. _Oh,_ he’s not evil yet. _Oh_ , so _that’s_ what it feels like to have a soulmate.

 _Oh_ , Bart _cares_.


	5. xxiii - xxvii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for the crazy amount of support this story has received!!
> 
> sorry this took so long but this story isn't abandoned - i will finish it this year and i'll try and do it quicker than the gap between this chap and the last

**xxiii**

If Jaime is his soulmate, and Bart’s going to fall in love with him – and he thinks that he’s very close already – then he wants to be entirely honest.

Except that _if_ he’s entirely honest and Blue Beetle then proceeds to go on mode, then the Reach will _know_ , they’ll know an _awful lot_ and it’ll become a very bad situation very fast.

Which leaves Bart not knowing what to do.

“Are you alright?”

Bart looks up to see Robin standing at the entrance of the kitchen, holding onto the doorframe and looking awkward. He lets his mouth quirk up. They’ve barely spoken since Bart arrived in the past – not for any particular dislike, just that Bart’s been too busy freaking out over Blue Beetle to concentrate on anything else.

“Fine, Tim!” he chirps, smiling at Tim’s face.

“Don’t call me that,” he mutters, though his heart’s not really in it and they can both tell. “Not everyone on the team knows.”

Tim comes to sit by Bart, which is… unexpected, but nice.

“What’s wrong?” Straight to the point.

Bart sighs.

“No wonder they call you guys detectives,” he muses. Tim keeps silent and keeps staring. “Ugh, I can’t get out of it, huh? Fine – you win, I guess.” Bart puffs out his cheeks and releases the air slowly. Tim is a _really_ good listener. “I’m feeling pretty moded.”

“That’s means bad, right?”

Bart scrunches up his nose and nods.

“There’s no direct translation, but, yeah, it’s bad. As in, it’s bad to _be_ moded. Crash is the opposite of that. Like – you crash the mode. You make the bad into good.” Bart shoots him a sidelong glance. “I can’t explain it too well to someone who hasn’t grown up with it.”

Tim just nods.

“No, it’s okay, I think I get it,” he states, and Bart doubts he gets it as much as he says he does – but then again, it’s _Tim Drake_ , legend of a genius in Bart’s time, so maybe he does. “But that means – you’re feeling bad, right now?”

Bart waves a hand. He’s never had to explain this before to someone who doesn’t understand. In the future _everyone_ understood.

“More like _troubled_. As in, I have a problem that’s bothering me.” Bart’s pretty sure his words are jumbling together at this point, but to Tim’s credit he seems to be following. “The lingo can mean different things, it’s just always negative.”

Tim looks genuinely interested, which Bart will admit makes him pleased. He’s never tried to teach anyone anything, but it’s actually pretty fun.

Then Tim smirks.

“Nice try, but you won’t get out of it that easily,” he states. “So – what’s got you ‘moded’?” Silence. “Is this about Jaime?”

Bart’s mouth drops open.

“How did you -?”

“Cassie told me that you two were soulmates,” Tim interrupts, then shrugs, looking slightly uncomfortable again. “It… makes sense that that’s what you’re upset about.”

Bart breathes out dramatically.

“… _Yeah_ ,” he admits, fiddling with his fingers at superspeed. It probably looks very odd, but Tim doesn’t say anything. “I, um – there’s something I should probably tell him, but I don’t really know _how_ and if I do then it might ruin _everything_ but if I don’t then it _definitely_ will -”

Tim holds up his hand, stopping Bart mid-rant. He looks part-amused and part-concerned. Bart doesn’t think that anyone except Tim would be able to pull that off.

“Just, remember what the classes tell you.” That piece of advice is the most useless thing Bart has ever heard.

Bart looks at Tim with big eyes.

“What _do_ the classes tell you?” he inquires.

Tim pauses, and gets this _look_ on his face.

“You… _do_ have the classes in the future, right? The ones that teach you about soulmates?”

Bart shrugs and smiles, though he’s not sure how cheerful he actually manages to look.

“Nope!” he announces, trying not to laugh at Tim’s shocked look. “There wasn’t really time for that. Or anything else.”

Tim’s face turns sad, and Bart knows he’s probably worked it out.

“The future wasn’t all that great, huh?” Tim asks quietly, though Bart hears it clear as crystal. “You came to the past to fix it.”

“…You’re really smart,” Bart admits, smiling one of the most honest smiles since he got to the past. “No one else has worked it out.”

“You _are_ a pretty good actor,” Tim comments. “It’s just little slip ups that I’ve noticed. I doubt anyone else has. I’m just observant.”

“And modest,” Bart teases, then sobers. “But, what _do_ the classes tell you?”

Tim gets this really goofy look on his face, and Bart can tell he’s thinking about Cassie.

“’You can always trust your soulmate,’” Tim quotes. Then he looks Bart right in eyes. “You can trust Jaime. So you should tell him.”

 

**xxiv**

Easier said than done.

Figuring out a way to get Jaime alone won’t that difficult – it’s mustering up the courage to do it that’s the _real_ issue. Because this will be Bart telling him _everything_ – baring his soul and telling the truth, and waiting for judgement.

He _really_ doesn’t want to do this.

But if there’s anyone Bart can trust, it’s his soulmate – at least, that’s what Tim said, and Bart _really_ needs someone to trust right now. And apparently, that person is Jaime Reyes.

The very person he came to the past telling himself he _wouldn’t_ trust.

God, Bart’s plan has gone so far off the rails he can barely even record what it was anymore.

He spends a whole day anxiously knowing on his thumb (a habit he’s _really_ got to break), trying to create a plan to get Jaime alone and tell him. By the end, Bart’s thumb is red and sore and he frowns at it – are his teeth that sharp? Is that normal? – with vague displeasure, eyes narrowing.

Okay. Enough worrying.

Time to actually _do_ this thing.

Because Bart, unlike _most_ people, can actually pick himself out of a slump, even if it’s by the thought that moping around is a very _boring_ way to live.

So. He has to talk to Jaime.

_Ugh._

As soon as Bart’s decided this, he stands up and runs. He searches pretty much half the Ave before he actually encounters Jaime, who is sitting and chatting with Cassie about… something. Bart’s brain makes connections. She and Tim are probably working together. People in this time are _surprisingly_ cunning.

Her eyes light up when she sees him.

“Oh! Bart!” she exclaims, eyes flickering to Jaime for a brief moment – if Bart wasn’t a speedster, he probably would have missed it. “Me and Blue were just talking about you.”

Bart raises an eyebrow as Jaime looks awkward.

“Cass,” he hisses, though when his dark eyes settle on Bart his face seems to relax and a smile comes to his face. He looks nice. Genuine. Bart swallows. “ _Hola_. I haven’t seen you all day.”

Bart shifts; half from nervousness, half from general antsiness.

“Jaime,” he says, and the word still feels odd in his throat, because he’s so used to thinking _Blue Beetle_ , but all of a sudden it’s _Jaime Reyes_ and _my soulmate_. “I was just wondering if you want to hang out. On like -” Bart cuts off suddenly as his eyes flicker towards Cassie, all too aware of her grinning presence, before he decides that he can trust her and carries on. “A date.”

Jaime’s face goes through a whole bunch of expressions within a few seconds, and just because speed allows Bart to _see_ them all it doesn’t mean that he _gets_ them all.

“A date?” Jaime repeats, grinning. “Shut up! I mean, uh, yeah, that sounds great.”

Cassie and Bart simultaneously raise an eyebrow. Jaime blushes and waves a hand.

“The Scarab,” he says. “It… talks to me.”

And because Bart still has a mission, even _if_ it’s changed drastically, he internally catalogues that piece of information in his head. It sort of makes him feel guilty to think that he’s got a mental list of Jaime Reyes and his villain potential, but in the long run he knows that this is what’s best.

Still, nothing about this is quite _normal_.

Instead of voicing his internal monologue, Bart grins and claps, rocking back on his heels.

“Crash! So, where? When? What do you wanna do?” he fires off at rapid pace, and he half expects Jaime to get annoyed, but instead his soulmate just laughs.

“Calm down,” he says, hands coming to rest in his pockets. “I guess we should just do the things people normally do on dates.”

Bart shakes his head, hair whipping with it.

“Sorry to burst your bubble, but we don’t _do_ dating in the future,” he chirps, unsure of whether to grin or shrink at Cassie and Jaime’s shocked looks. He goes with the former. “So you’re gonna have to fill me in.”

“Like, movies?” Cassie answers, twirling a strand of her hair as her eyes drift up. “Walks. If you’re normal, that is. If you’re a _superhero_ , it usually ends up being back-to-back fighting against villains.”

“None of those are stupid!” Jaime hisses to himself – or rather, the Scarab. Bart’s soulmate may not yet be evil, but he certainly is… interesting.

Bart’s not normal and neither is Jaime, but Bart is also _very_ new to actually _being_ a superhero and, right now, normal sounds nice.

“I’ve never seen a movie,” he announces honestly, and grins at the gaping stares he receives.

“If you’ve never seen a movie,” Jaime says, beginning slow before starting to talk normally. “Then we _have_ to show you one. But, like, your first impression has to be good.” He frowns, cocking his head. “What, did you all have holopads or something in the future?”

_We had inhibitor collars, but no holopads, unfortunately_ , rests on the tip of Bart’s tongue, but he bites it down with bitterness and smiles.

“Sure did! Holopads were _all_ the rage!”

He really shouldn’t lie about this, considering that the whole _point_ of this date is to tell the truth.

But lying is instinct, it would seem.

 

**xxv**

Bart _could not say_ what the film is about, or what they’re even _watching_. His mind is too wrapped up in thoughts about what he’s going to do, what he’s going to _say_ , and how he doesn’t want to have to look in Jaime’s eyes as he describes the Blue Beetle of his future.

His leg bumps up and down at lightning speed, until Jaime gently places a warm hand on his knee and Bart stops immediately. Suddenly, he’s glad that they’re in a dark cinema where no one can see him flush.

 

**xxvi**

 

When the film is finished, Bart asks if they can go somewhere private. Jaime suggests a desert near his house as a joke, but Bart takes it completely seriously and they both end up sitting in the sand when it’s almost night time.

Bart’s not sure what would qualify as a typical date, but it’s probably not this.

“So, did you wanna talk about something?” Jaime asks, probably worried that ever since Bart started sitting cross-legged on the floor the smaller male has refused to meet his eyes.

Silence.

“The Scarab,” Bart says abruptly, looking up but still not meeting those warm brown eyes. “Can it hear everything we’re saying?”

“Yes,” Jaime says without hesitation. Bart breathes out slowly. That’s… a problem.

“Do you trust it?” he asks, and Jaime makes a small surprised sound.

“I don’t know about _trust_ ,” he replies slowly after several moments of thought-filled silence. “But I’m pretty sure it’s under my control.”

Bart doesn’t trust the Scarab, but despite himself he trusts _Jaime_ – “ _you can always trust your soulmate”_ – and that belief is enough to take a steely breath and look towards the horizon.

“Do you remember why I said I came to the past?”

“Uh… Cassie said you were a tourist.”

Bart isn’t looking at Jaime, but he can sense his confusion. He tries not to think about it too much. After he’s done speaking, Jaime won’t be confused any more.

“Yeah. At least, that’s what I _said_. But that’s… it’s not strictly true.”

He doesn’t want to look at Jaime, because he knows that Jaime is probably going to get very upset very soon and it’ll all be Bart’s fault. And not only will Jaime be _upset_ – he’ll know why _Bart_ is, what _Bart’s_ been through, and somehow that thought is the scariest one in his head.

“You’re not from the future?”

The question allows Bart to muster up a distant smirk, blowing upwards to move the strand of hair in his face.

“No, I _am_ from the future,” he clarifies. Because, really, why would he lie about _that_? “Just not because I’m a tourist.” Jaime makes the sound of opening his mouth to say something, but Bart’s knows what he’s going to say anyway so he answers before Jaime can ask. “I, um… I came here to stop something.”

He halts there, eyes still looking out into the distance. Jaime sits just a little way from him, shifting slightly.

When it becomes apparent that Bart’s not going to go on without prompting, Jaime clears his throat.

“Came to stop what?”

Bart curls his hand into a fist until his nails are digging into the palm. This’ll be it. No going back. Jaime will know everything, and then Bart will be at his mercy for judgement.

“Jaime…” Bart bites his lip. Here goes. “I came here to stop _you_.”

Jaime doesn’t understand, it’s clear, from the silence that follows. Maybe he wants Bart to meet his eyes and explain more, but the speedster refuses. He’s not going to speak unless spoken to.

“You came to stop me,” Jaime repeats gently after a few moments that have felt like forever, and Jaime’s voice manages to sound both sad and confused all at once. “What… What do I do? In the future? What do I do that made you want to stop me?”

Bart leans his head back and looks up at the stars. They couldn’t see the stars, in the future. Just a sky full of ash.

“You are…” He searches for the right words but fails to find them. “ _Blue Beetle_ is the biggest, baddest, big bad in history.” He laughs a little and hopes it doesn’t come out too bitter. “He killed my mum.”

“I -” Jaime sounds horrified. Bart doesn’t blame him. “I _killed_ your _mum_?!”

“Blue Beetle did,” Bart corrects sharply, surprising even himself since it’s done on instinct. “Not you.”

He’s smiling, he realises. Defence mechanisms never change, and this is his oldest and most trusted one.

“How do you know?” Jaime asks, and it sounds as though there’s an underlying anger there, just _screaming_ to get out. “How do you know it wasn’t me?”

Bart’s head is still tilted back as he closes his eyes, and he feels the tell-tale wetness of tears dripping down his cheeks.

“Because I couldn’t stand it if it was, okay?” he says quietly, and Jaime’s shifting falls silent. “It was Blue Beetle, but it wasn’t you. It wasn’t my soulmate. It _can’t_ have been.”

Silence reigns again, and Bart can tell that there’s a million questions Jaime wants to ask, but he somehow goes with the strangest.

“Your Timer,” Jaime begins, haltingly. “If you knew me in the future, did it reach zero then? But you heard the _tick_ so it can’t have done.” Bart can almost hear Jaime furrowing his brow. “Did you have _two_ Timers?”

“Worse,” Bart says, opening his eyes and grinning cheerily. He still won’t look at Jaime. “It counted up.”

“Up?” Jaime sounds sceptical. Bart wants to laugh, so he does.

“Yes, Jaime, _up_. Day after day, while everyone else’s counted down, my Timer only ever _gained_ time.” He shakes his head, still smiling. “I couldn’t figure it out for the life of me, but all I knew was that I was never gonna meet my soulmate.” Bart shrugs jerkily. “A clock counting up can’t reach zero. I thought you didn’t exist.”

Jaime only makes a quiet “oh” in reply, the sounds he makes sounding like he’s bringing his knees up to his chest.

Bart continues after several minutes.

“When I came to the past,” he says, voice hoarse from talking about such personal things, things that he only ever told Nathaniel and never in this much detail. “My Timer changed. It started counting down and it told me that I only had three days. And on that day, when I met you, I knew I was going to meet Blue Beetle and that I was going to meet my soulmate. I didn’t know that they were going to be the same person.”

Bart takes a shaky breath, finally letting his eyes drift over to meet Jaime’s, and then he smiles his first genuine smile since this conversation began.

“Jaime,” he says. “I’m glad that it was you.”

Jaime swallows, and then he smiles too.

“Me too,” he says, voice as hoarse as Bart’s, and both of them smile as the stars twinkle down.

Then Aqualad arrives.

 

**xxvii**

And then, of course, the Cave gets blown up and they get kidnapped.

Bart’s time in the tube can only be described as panic, the words _nonono_ echoing around his skull. His eyes, when open, can only make out the all-too-familiar sight of the Reach bustling about, gawking inside, taking notes. Bart feels sick.

He’d known, coming to the past, that it would be expected for something like this to happen, but that doesn’t make it any less terrifying.

M’Gann gets there soon enough, getting him out of that pod ( _getmeoutgemout **getmeout**_ ) and Bart doesn’t think he’s ever been so grateful. But his soulmate is locked away, too, somewhere that isn’t close, and hecouldgetmodedanysecondgottarunfast.

He sees Jaime and the world slows down. Bart knows that he’s been panicking, and he knows that logically he should calm down and assess the situation, but if Blue Beetle goes on mode then the whole thing is over – it’ll all have been pointless, and it means _so much more_ now that his Timer’s reached zero.

He’s already told Jaime about the future, but as Bart helps him out he can’t help but want Jaime to _know_ – to know how close he was to losing himself, to becoming moded, and how it _could happen any second_.

Bart doesn’t explain, but he thinks Jaime can understand, anyway.

They get home safely, thank _god,_ and everything’s okay again.

Until Jaime asks Bart to meet his parents.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (i know Bart and Jaime don't really call each other by their names sshhh hermano isn't an option this time)


	6. xxviii - xxxv

**xxviii**

“ _Madre_ , _padre_ ,” Jaime says. “This is Bart Allen. He’s my soulmate.”

Bart waves.

“Hi, Mr and Mrs Jaime!” he chirps. Jaime can’t quite contain his grin.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Bart,” Bianca greets, smiling warmly. “You’re all Jaime’s talked about for three days. Before that, we didn’t even know you existed.”

“Well, I do! I love your house, by the way. It’s very… retro.”

Both Jaime’s parents blink.

“Retro?” Alberto repeats, looking confused but (thankfully) not offended. Bart ups his grin, nodding.

“Yeah! But not in a bad way – retro is crash!”

“Jaime,” a voice says from behind them. Jaime turns to see Milagro standing in the doorway, lollipop in hand. “Your soulmate is weird.”

“Don’t be rude,” Jaime admonishes, but Bart just takes a step towards Milagro.

“Thanks for the compliment, Jaime’s Little Sister.” He tilts his head. “Hey, you _are_ his sister, right?”

Milagro nods, bounding forwards with a grin on her face. Huh. She must like Bart already.

“I’m Milagro,” she informs, shooting a _look_ towards Jaime that he can’t quite decipher. “And you’re Bart.” She says the name carefully, as though testing it out in her mouth. “Jaime’s soulmate.”

“Uh huh.”

Milagro blinks, then smiles, revealing the gaps in her teeth.

“Want a lollipop?”

“Sure!”

Jaime stares as his sister and soulmate seem to get along better than _Jaime_ and his soulmate. Which is… odd, but good. He doesn’t know what he’d do if his family didn’t like Bart – not that that’d ever happen, but it’s still been a worry on his mind.

As if sensing his thoughts, Alberto clears his throat, causing Jaime to turn back around and face them.

“You know we’d accept your soulmate no matter what, Jaime,” Bianca states, and Jaime _did_ know that but it’s still relieving to hear.

“Uh, yeah. Thanks.”

He nods once, firmly, before turning back to Bart.

“Bart, we’re having dinner in about twenty minutes. Do you wanna stay?”

Bart smiles uncertainly.

“If that’s… okay. I’m a pretty heavy eater.”

“That’s fine,” Alberto cuts in, already moving towards the kitchen. “We always make extra, anyway. Please, make yourself at home.”

 

**xxvix**

 

Milagro’s Timer still has three years left.

She stares at it sometimes, grinning at the _tickticktick_ and wonders what her soulmate will be like.

When Jaime awkwardly admitted to having met his soulmate a couple days ago, Milagro had been _elated_. Because! A new member of the family! Jaime’s soulmate!

“His name is Bart,” he’d stated, shuffling. “I – _really_ like him.”

“Invite him round,” Alberto suggested in reply. Jaime had paused, then nodded.

“Sure.”

Milagro had _grinned_.

Bart Allen has lived up to her expectations – surpassed them, in fact. He’s funny and nice and smart and, hell, Milagro kind of wishes he was _her_ soulmate.

Plus, him and Jaime are _super_ cute together.

“You should stay the night,” Milagro states about halfway through the meal, and Bart freezes in the middle of his chicken. “If your grandparents wouldn’t mind.”

Bart smiles, nodding.

“I’ll call them, if I can borrow your phone,” he says, and Jaime grins at him. Milagro has to try very hard not to squeal.

They are _adorable_.

And so Bart stays over, Jaime offering him the bed and sleeping on the floor. About halfway through the night Milagro stirs to peep outside and see Bart creeping slowly down the stairs, but she shrugs it off and heads back to bed.

He’s probably just getting a glass of water.

 

**xxx**

That night, Bart sneaks into the kitchen.

Jaime is fast asleep, hand sprawled out across the floor. Bart carefully steps over it and moves at a much slower pace than he’s used to, fully aware that the Scarab could activate and fire at him any minute.

It doesn’t, though, and Jaime doesn’t even stir as Bart slips out the door and down the stairs.

The kitchen is dark, but Bart’s well used to navigating himself without much light. It takes only seconds to pull open a few cupboards until he’s found the one he’s looking for.

Steeling himself, Bart reaches inside and pulls out a knife.

It’s sharp, and he tries to keep his hand steady as he walks back up the stairs, holding his breath every second. Jaime’s parents will hate him for this, and Jaime’s sister, and, grife, even Bart _himself_ , but Blue Beetle is _dangerous_ and Bart’s seen that danger too up close and personal to let Blue Beetle live.

It’s one thing, he thinks, to have a knife in your hand and say that you’re going to kill your soulmate. But it’s a wholly different one to be standing over their sleeping form with it raised.

_Do you think anyone could really do it?_ Bart’s own words echo in his mind, and he shakes his head to dispel the thought even as Nathaniel’s reply runs on autopilot.

_I think that, if they were desperate, with nothing else to do, and killing them might bring about something wonderful – I think that they would do it._

Bart’s grip tightens.

He could do it, right now. He probably could have done it already, with his speed. Jaime would never even know, going to sleep comfortable and happy and simply… never waking up. It would be merciful, both on Jaime and the world.

**“Are you going to do it or not?”**

Bart is so surprised he almost drops the knife.

Jaime looks up at him, but his eyes are growing orange and his posture is tense.

“Oh my god,” Bart says on instinct, taking a step back. “You’re not Jaime.”

**“Are you sure?”** it says, cocking its head, practically giving itself away. Bart nods hastily.

“I’m his soulmate,” he informs, even though it’s pointless because he has a fairly good idea of who he’s speaking to. “You’re, uh – you’re the Scarab.”

**“Yes.”**

Bart’s mouth goes dry. His eyes flick about.

“Is there a… reason, you’re controlling Jaime?”

It cocks its head even more, sending a shiver down Bart’s spine.

**“You were threatening the host body,”** it informs. **“I had to intervene.”**

“I thought Jaime had to give you control.”

**“Jaime Reyes is only in control when he’s conscious. Currently, his mind is not aware of his surroundings, allowing me to take control in order to prevent you from harming the host body.”**

It dawns on Bart within a few seconds.

“You’re _worried_ about him.”

The Scarab’s lip curls.

**“I do not ‘ _worry_ ’.” **

“You totally do,” Bart accuses, going to point his finger before remembering that there’s a knife in his hand and oh, yeah, better not do that. “You just don’t want to admit it because you’re kind of evil, but you are _worried_.”

“ **I am not,”** it says, sounding calm on the surface but angry underneath. **“Cease your allegations, Impulse.”**

“You can’t call me that here,” Bart informs, eyes flicking to the door as though Milagro is about to come bursting in at any second. “I mean, _I_ don’t really care about secret identities, but Jaime really does. Don’t want him getting caught because you blurted out something.”

The Scarab stares for a few seconds, brow creasing.

**“Why are you attempting to harm my host?”** it asks. Bart tries his hardest not to let out a bitter laugh.

“You _know_ why,” he states, knife still raised and pointed in his hand. “Jaime told me that you hear everything he hears. So when I told Jaime, I told you.”

**“You did not state your intention to kill him, nor did you attack despite ample opportunity prior to now. Explain your decision.”**

Bart groans.

“ _Because_ , I _kind_ of had a nightmare about the future and remember that it’s _kind_ of a shithole I could _kind_ of prevent.”

**“And your solution is to terminate Jaime Reyes.”**

“I -” Bart is very ashamed of how his voice cracks, averting his eyes. “I guess.”

**“That doesn’t seem very moral.”**

“Yeah, well, neither does enslaving the human race, which is what _you’re_ gonna do if I don’t stop you. Don’t be such a hypocrite.”

They stare for several seconds, eyes glaring, before the Scarab opens its mouth and says,

**“Will I need to fire up weapons, or are you just going to stand there?”**

“If I _did_ do it,” Bart starts, shifting his weight from leg to leg. “It’d be so fast you wouldn’t even know.”

**“I disagree,”** the Scarab intones. **“And I will take any measures necessary to protect my host’s body.”**

Bart quirks a brow.

**“For his sake or for yours?”**

The Scarab doesn’t reply, but they both know the answer. _For both_.

Bart sighs, loosening his grip on the knife, though he still doesn’t drop it and he still has it aimed at Jaime.

“If you can come up with another solution,” he says as slowly as his mouth will allow, running the words through his head. “That doesn’t involve killing him – that would be super crash, and I’d probably take it. I don’t – _want_ to kill my soulmate.”

**“As predicted,”** the Scarab says – and, really, what does that even _mean_? **“Perhaps – stay close to him. ‘Keep an eye’ on him.”**

Bart lets out a short bark of laughter.

“Are you _kidding_ me?”

**“It is preferable to murder.”**

Bart bites his lip, sighs, and lowers the knife.

“Fine,” he concedes, twitching anxiously. “I’ll chill out on the knives and the… murder plans. Don’t make me regret this.”

**“Believe it or not, I too wish to remain free of the Reach’s control.”**

“Yeah, well, you should probably tell Jaime that. I think I’ve made him nervous.”

**“Rightly so.”**

They fall silent again, though now it’s more awkward than the terrible ‘are you going to attack me’ silence from earlier.

“I’d, uh,” Bart begins, trying to dispel the awkwardness. “Better go put this knife back.”

The Scarab tilts its head.

**“I’ll be waiting.”**

 

**xxxi**

Bart crawls back into bed, the knife back in the drawer that he got it from.

Orange eyes watch him in the darkness, but it’s not long before they fade.

 

**xxxii**

Black Beetle is at LexCorp.

_Grife_.

He was never as big as Blue Beetle, or as scary, but it’s still disconcerting to see him standing _right there_.

The rest of the team is worried, but not scared. They run at the enemy with everything they have, and this mission ended _very_ badly in Bart’s timeline, and he assures himself that his presence will make a difference.

Then Green Beetle shows up. Bart doesn’t trust him. It doesn’t look like he’s on mode yet, but in the future has was one of the three Big Bads that Bart was taught to fear.

He settles for being skittish around him, shooting him warning looks whenever he gets too close to Jaime.

But Bart isn’t fast enough later, and isn’t on time to stop Green Beetle from doing… _something_ to the Scarab. He’s worried, but Jaime seems fine – he even says that the Scarab has been silenced. To be honest, Bart’s kind of glad. The Scarab hasn’t been moded, but it’s been _unnerving_.

So all in all, there’s now a much lower chance of the Reach getting Jaime on mode.

Everything just might be fine, after all.

 

**xxxiii**

~~Jaime Reyes grows up with a frozen Timer.~~

~~It has sixteen years on it, always. He tells his _madre_ when he reaches ten and she holds him as he cries. ~~

~~“It’ll just get later and later and later,” he states with a sad voice. “I’m never going to meet them.”~~

~~Bianca runs a hand down his back, sighing.~~

~~“Oh, Jaime,” she says softly, tears shining in her eyes. “I’m sorry.”~~

~~The Reach take him over, later, and they leave his armour on all the time.~~

~~Jaime never sees his Timer again.~~

~~(This timeline no longer exists.)~~

**xxxiv**

 

They go out for ice cream, and it’s just as nice as Nathaniel had told Bart it was.

Jaime acts slightly odd, but when Bart asks what’s wrong he simply states that he’s unused to not having the Scarab in his head. They’re about halfway through when Bart gets called away to help rescue tsunami victims, and he leaves with an apologetic smile and feeling warm inside.

Everything might just be fine, after all.

 

**xxxv**

The crystal smashes into the back of Bart’s head, and everything goes to shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> almost there - thanks for sticking with my horribly irregular updates


End file.
